Gramma's gone but not forgotten, <br />that's her apron hanging there. <br />It still hangs in Grampa's kitchen <br />sometimes he looks at it and stares. <br /> <br />When Gramma wore her apron <br />it was magical to see. <br />The pockets held such treasures <br />for the grandkids just like me. <br /> <br />Saw it shine up Grampa's fender once, <br />just as pretty as you please, <br />and it wiped my brother's cheek off <br />one time when he sneezed. <br /> <br />It took cookies from the oven <br />and it rushed to wipe a tear. <br />Got a grain of sand out of your eye, <br />and made a lap for the stories we'd hear. <br /> <br />It wiped spills up from the countertop <br />when she was baking pies, <br />a symbol of her love and care <br />and it showed, too, in her eyes. <br /> <br />Sometimes I'm sad to look at it <br />when I see my Grampa stare. <br />Gramma's gone but not forgotten. <br />That's her apron hanging there.<br /><br />C.J. Heck<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/gramma-s-apron-children/
